


Case 157: The Adventure Of The Wensleydale Hunt (1898)

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [202]
Category: NCIS, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Casa Erotica (Supernatural), Cuddling & Snuggling, Deception, Destiel - Freeform, Dildos, Divorce, Dogs, Exhaustion, F/M, Family, Gay Sex, Infidelity, Inheritance, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Military, Poisoning, Trains, Untold Cases of Sherlock Holmes, Yorkshire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-19 09:57:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17599121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: ֍ A poisoner is targeting the dogs of the famous Wensleydale Hunt – but why? And John has another memorable train trip that may or may not leave him barely able to stand (hint: it does).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookworm4ever81](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm4ever81/gifts).



_[Narration by Mr. Sherlock Holmes, Esquire]_

The key to understanding 'who done it', as John so ungrammatically says, is usually first to find out 'why they done it' (damnation, he has me at it now!). In this case which once more took us to the beautiful White Rose County and a matter where all was most definitely not what it seemed, that was most definitely the case.

I had for once risen early and decided that a short walk before breakfast would be beneficial while the man I loved more than life itself slept in our rooms. And if said walk just happened to take me past 'The House Of Eros' (which despite the failed renaming attempt John always referred to as 'Casa Erotica') and said shop happened to be open, well there was never a bad time to make purchases which would reduce the sleeping beauty back in 221B to an even gooier pile of goo. 

Mr. Isaac Stephens the owner greeted me and asked if I was after anything special.

“I shall take some more aftercare unguent”, I said. “Not perhaps the mint-scented one; several of John's patients kept asking him if he had been working in a garden lately and the poor fellow was quite embarrassed.”

“Trial and error does sometimes lead to error”, Mr. Stephens said making a note. “I shall tell the makers to halve the amount of mint in future. I wonder if you and the good doctor might care to be the first to try a new line that I am considering?”

He reached under the counter and produced what seemed like a regular dildo (a _regular_ dildo!). The protrusions on it were small compared to the one we had back home which had led John to have to cancel a patient after wearing it on a train all the way back from one case. I had had to let him have extra pie that evening to make up for the fact he had been unable to sit down for twenty-four hours, and I had almost let him keep all his bacon at dinner.

I said _almost!_ I mean, come on. Bacon!

“Is there something new about it?” I asked. He grinned knowingly.

“The centre part is filled with one of those new chemicals they have found recently”, he said. “Perfectly safe, but once inside a human body the heat causes it to expand, pushing these 'extensions' out to up to four times their original size. What starts out as pleasurable teasing to the male innards will within a very short time feel more like going twelve rounds with a champion pugilist.”

“We must certainly not impede the advance of science!” I grinned. “I will take it!”

֍

One of the many wonderful things about John was that he was not afraid to say no to me when he became uncomfortable with our 'games'. It only rarely happened, and he looked so ecstatically happy when he had borne with whatever I had lined up for him, but we both knew that there had to be limits. I still took the lead more often that he did and he was happy with that. And I was happy that he was happy.

Although I had a feeling that with this latest torture perhaps I should have purchased an extra jar of that aftercare unguent. 

I arrived back just as breakfast was being served – Mrs. Singer rolled her eyes at my advent just as breakfast was going up in the 'dumb-waiter', which was just unfair – and went back to our rooms. John was sat reading the paper, as beautiful as ever. It was a little unfair that I could not jump him there and then but there was bacon to be had first. Priorities here!

We spent a pleasant morning in and had just finished luncheon when a card was sent up. I read it in surprise.

“'Major-General Achilles Encise-Weatherly'”, I said, smiling slightly and looking across at John.

The pout was so glorious. We both knew the major-general's youngest son Mr. Antenor 'Tony' Encise-Weatherly as one of Mr. Sweyn Godfreyson's boys where he was Signor Antonio DiNozzo, playing on his Italian ancestry through his paternal grandmother. The young fellow had like so many supplemented his income during his time in the capital that way; he was a solidly built young fellow of about twenty-two years of age, very handsome and someone of whom John was not the least bit jealous of no matter how often I mentioned how handsome he was.

I shifted my backside on the chair at the happy memory of how jealous John had not been that last time. Perhaps it was time to ask Lowen to 'just happen to drop by'? And we had not seen Benji for nearly three weeks.

“I wonder what can be so urgent?” I said, not smirking in any way, shape or form. 

John looked suspiciously at me but luckily he was distracted by my remark.

“Why do you say urgent?” he asked.

“The address is near the town of Hawes in the North Riding of Yorkshire”, I said. “That is at the far end of Wensleydale; he would likely have taken a train or a carriage to Hawes Junction, through which we passed when we went to Westmorland to assist Sergeant Henriksen over the Addleton murders, then most likely two more trains before he could reach St. Pancras. Given the distances involved he must have left his home at an ungodly hour of the morning to be here now, yet he could have easily had a much more comfortable if slower journey by going down the valley and taking the North Eastern Railway. His card also lists two clubs in the city so he has somewhere he could have stayed if required.”

And Wensleydale is a long train ride away I thought to myself, smiling as I remembered my recent purchase. Waste not, want not!

A few minutes later the major-general was shown up. He was a bluff flaxen-haired fellow in his early fifties, very much the archetypal retired soldier. John had told me from the social pages that he hardly ever read except for the very rare occasions that he may have glanced at them in passing when he had the time and if the newspaper just happened to have been open at that page (ahem!) that the fellow was a former Royal Marine, married with four children and was possessed of an excellent military record, having retired the previous year after having suffered an injury while working at a training camp. I had not of course smirked his in-depth knowledge of the social pages. 

I had not smirked _much._

“This is all a bit of a mess”, our visitor said apologetically, “and Dickon says I am prone to ramble so apologies in advance.”

“Who is 'Dickon'?” I asked.

There was the most infinitesimal of pauses before the soldier's answer, but I spotted it.

“My valet”, he said gruffly. “Decent chap if a bit young, although the wifey thinks that no valet should still be in his thirties. She told me the whole damn thing was nonsense but it.... feels wrong.”

I bit back a smile as he clearly had to struggle with the f-word. Like someone else I knew.

“What was the first thing that happened to cause you concern?” I asked. John, damn him, was already smiling over his notes as he knew that getting information out of this client would be difficult. I would make damn sure that he was not smiling later!

The soldier took a deep breath.

“Dickon – Mr. Richard Zeals – he suggested it would be better than making it all official. Our local sergeant, a fellow called Phelps, is the wifey's cousin and.... to be brutally honest with you Mr. Holmes I do not trust him. There was a matter last year of some sheep going missing on a farm I owned over in Westmorland, and he tried to stick his oar in and take over the investigation. Luckily one of their county sergeants put a stop to that. Tall dark chap called Henriksen; Dickon knows him because his own family comes from the county. He suggested that you might be better as Phelps.... as I said I do not trust the fellow.”

“One must play one's instincts where possible”, I said equably. 

“I live at Blackrigg Hall which is about one mile outside of Hawes”, our visitor said. “Utterly useless big house; I am more than looking forward to handing it on and moving somewhere a bit smaller. I was the younger son in my family and, if truth be told, more than a bit of a young buck in my twenties. My father was something of a tyrant – actualy a lot of a tyrant; he would have done far better as one of those Roman Emperors – and when I was almost twenty-five and still showing no sign of settling down I was married to the wifey, a local girl called Miss Brenda Phelps.”

“We have four children, three sons and a daughter. Odie – Odysseus – is the eldest at twenty-four and I am afraid very much a version of myself at his age; I suppose that that is the Good Lord ensuring that what goes around comes around. He is of far less personable a nature than even I was in my wild days; he has had several lady acquaintances but none have lasted once they saw his true character. He cannot even keep a valet as none of the servants will put up with his attitude for any length of time.”

That was damning, I knew. Servants would put up with a whole lot to keep their posts.

“My second son Tolly – Autolycus; the wifey named him after a master thief for some damn reason – is much better”, the major-general went on. “A couple of years ago he married Lord Grosmont's daughter Charlotte; all teeth and braces but a decent girl and they already have a son with another child on the way. He and Odie do not get on, especially after Tolly named his boy after me. Then again the way Odie is going, my namesake may be lord of the manor one day.”

“Tony – Antenor – is my third son. He was the one who mentioned your name to me; as you know he spent a couple of years down here and returned home at the start of last month when I had a bit of a fall. He is the only one who is into hunting as much as I am; he virtually lives down the kennels which are about half a mile from both the house and the town. Strange really as he never used to care much for it, but he says he acquired a love of dogs in London. He claims that Gibbs – the kennel-master Mr. Jethro Gibbs – is better company that he can get at home and I must admit that he has a point there.”

“Mr. Gibbs”, my beloved said thoughtfully. “The name is familiar from somewhere. Was he not in the Royal Marines too?”

For some reason that question made the old soldier redden somewhat.

“Damn shameful business!” he snorted. “He was injured on a mission – one of the men under him blatantly ignored an order and the whole party was nearly killed. Damn stuffed shirts forced him to retire early despite his being barely forty, then tried to say he did not qualify for a pension. Fortunately I still have some contacts and called in a few favours for him. He was not in my unit but his family is from Leyburn down the dale, so I gave him the kennel-master's job. He was the one I sent down here to tell Tony when I had my fall a couple of months ago.”

I saw something there. I remembered that Mr. Antenor Encise-Weatherley had been very happy in London and had evinced no desire to return to Yorkshire, nor did I consider him of the sort to whom filial obligation would matter overly much. Yet he had at once gone back to his home county with Mr. Gibbs. And that sudden love of canines – yes indeed.

“Please continue with your fascinating narrative”, I said. 

“That leaves my daughter Ariadne”, the old soldier said with a sigh. “No-one dares to shorten her name; she is into women's suffrage, peace campaigning _and_ animal rights. I suppose we will have to let some of the ladies have the vote one day even if my father would turn in his grave at the prospect but when she starts sounding off about how cruel it is to keep a pack of hounds, that is when I put my foot down! She seems to think that people like me would keep several dozen hungry dogs just for the pleasure of it, not to keep the vermin down. And she dislikes Gibbs intensely, though of course she never says as much to me.”

“Why is that?” John asked.

“She thinks he is too common”, our visitor said shortly. “She said as much to me, and when I said about pots and kettles she refused to talk to me for days. I suppose she thought that that was some sort of punishment!”

I looked expectantly at our visitor.

“I think that is everyone”, he said. 

“I do not”, I said firmly. “Major-General, even before you have described your case at hand this sound quite intriguing, but there is something that you have left out. What is it?”

He blushed fiercely.

“That Henriksen fellow told Dickon that you were sharp”, he sighed. “All right. There never was any love or stuff between Brenda and I, but lately I have found out that she had been seeing a farmer over in Westmorland. Dickon asked your friend Henriksen to make some discreet inquiries and he confirmed it. I am working with my lawyers to divorce her; the paperwork will be ready in about a month he thinks.”

“Is she aware of this?” I asked. Our visitor shook his head.

“She thinks I believe her every time she says she is visiting a 'friend' in Appleby”, he said sourly. “But my lawyers are right next door to the police station, although I hope that I can rely on their discretion.”

“Tell me about the case, please”, I said.

“It is not much to tell after all that”, he said. “As I said, I hunt a hell of a lot, probably even more lately with all this about to blow. Two weeks ago Gibbs got woken up early when all the dogs started barking. Despite what you may think about fox-hounds Mr. Holmes those dogs are well-trained; they do not set off unless something is damn wrong. Gibbs walked around the kennels and found that someone had thrown some meat over the fence. He found it when he let the dogs out and stopped them from eating it as he was suspicious.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I tore it in two and sent half to Sergeant Phelps for testing”, he said. “I had Dickon take the other half over to your friend Sergeant Henriksen. I had a feeling.... you know.”

“Were you right?” John asked. He nodded.

“Your friend got back to me three days later”, he said. “Smart lad; he should go far if the force has any sense. The meat had been dosed heavily and would have killed any dog who had eaten it. Phelps came to me the following day and said that the lab down in Northallerton had found nothing.”

“So you were indeed wise to not trust him”, I said. “Were there any further incidents?”

The old soldier scratched his head at that.

“Gibbs is a smart fellow”, he said. “He thought there might be another attack so he moved two of the loudest dogs to a spare kennel that we keep for sick animals; it is by the gateway and the only road in. Last week they set off barking although by the time he had got out to see what it was there was no-one there. But the place is at the end of a dead-end road and there is not so much as a footpath for anyone to walk that way. I think that someone was going to try something and got scared off.”

“Then we must repair to Wensleydale with all speed lest there is a further attack”, I said. “May I ask what your own plans were for today, sir?”

He looked surprised at having secured my services quite so easily.

“I had thought to spend a night at the Traveller's, sir”, he said. “But if you are free to go today.....”

“We shall go this very minute”, I said. “Watson, there is a East Coast timetable on the shelf beside you and I believe it lists connections such as those up the dale. Is there a train that would get us there today?”

John was clearly as surprised as the major-general at my easy acquiescence but he duly obliged.

“The half-past one”, he said after checking in the timetable. “And it makes a guaranteed connection with the last train to Hawes at Northallerton.”

I thought back to the Darlington Substitution Scandal that had taken place around that town. Coincidentally I had only last month received another letter from the boy we had rescued there, now Mr. Stephen Darlington, informing me that he had become engaged to be married and once more thanking us both for saving his life from his potentially murderous step-father, who I knew had since died abroad. Ten years had transformed a gangly youth into a handsome young gentleman whose engagement had been bemoaned by many a society matron. 

Ten years. A whole decade!

“We shall pack and meet you at King's Cross at one o'clock”, I said shaking off the ghosts of the past. “I would not wish to risk any further attacks despite your Mr. Gibbs' wise counter-measures.”

֍


	2. Chapter 2

I had no wish to cause our client any more distress than he was already experiencing. Unfortunately as I could not yet admit John to what were as of now just suspicions, he went and asked exactly the wrong question.

“Your valet seems a little shy, sir.”

We had made the train with time to spare and were now steaming north at a respectable pace courtesy of the Great Northern Railway. The major-general blushed at the question.

“That is another reason that Brenda does not like the poor fellow”, he said. “And not for that birthmark across his chin even though she says it is 'the devil's mark', fool woman. Dickon is the bastard offspring of one of my useless elder brother's servants and was raised in an orphanage.”

“And you took him on as a valet?” John asked, clearly surprised.

“I did not mention my elder brother because, to be frank, he was better off out of this world that in it”, the major-general said bluntly. “Agiades was a bully and a thug, and he chose his staff to be of the same cloth. My late father expected him to inherit and, although I should probably not say it, I felt a dark pleasure when he died and my father had to live his last decade knowing that I would likely inherit the estate.”

“He could not will it away elsewhere?” I asked.

“He left what little of his own money he had to various relatives”, the old soldier said, “but the estate itself was entailed to the eldest male heir.” 

He hesitated then continued. 

“It is hardly the most noble of motives but I saw taking on Dickon as a final act of revenge against my late brother”, he admitted. “Two of Agiades' other servants fathered bastards as well but both boys died.”

“The past can sometimes affect the present”, I said carefully. “I have an idea what is afoot here but as so often sorting matters out will require... a delicate touch.”

I glanced pointedly at John and he blushed fiercely. He knew full well that the item at the bottom of his medical bag would not be giving him a delicate touch when he had it in him all the way back to London, although he had no idea just what it was capable of. And when I ran my tongue round my lips ever so slightly, the way that his eyes widened was _most_ satisfying!

֍

Regretfully we had to stay in Blackrigg Hall during our time in Wensleydale, which even though we reached it in pitch darkness was an eerily beautiful place. And cold, especially without the love of my life by my side as he should have been.

The following morning and after a sleepless night I went to John's room and made a point of kissing him for at least a minute. I may or may not have jerked him off, but then if he would open the door to me still in his nightshirt then he should have expected such treatment. And it was wonderful to see him try to get dressed while so flustered at my low-level growling. 

Finally we made it downstairs where thankfully there was both coffee and bacon. My opinion of the area increased markedly.

At the breakfast table were the major-general, his wife and two of their four children. Mrs. Brenda Encise-Weatherly was one of what John called those 'lazy women', the sort for whom any physical movement was clearly an effort. She was not particularly fat but just languid in her movements, as if lifting her fork to her mouth was clearly her exercise regimen for the day. 

Her offspring were little better. Mr. Odysseus Encise-Weatherly, the eldest son, was an anaemic young blond fellow who had clearly inherited his mother's dislike for physical exertion as he was already tending towards rotundity. And his sister Ariadne was a sharp-tongued virago who expounded her opinions on hunting and women's suffrage loudly despite having her mouth full. I rather pitied the poor old soldier having to live with this lot; little wonder that he hunted so much and was looking forward to both his divorce and retirement!

“Your youngest son is not joining us, sir?” John asked as we sat down.

“Tony is already away down with those dogs he adores”, the major-general said disapprovingly. “At this ungodly hour of the morning. I am surprised that he does not sleep with the damn mutts!”

“I have been thinking about this matter”, I said as I helped myself to a small amount of bacon (only seven rashers and John could stop smirking right this minute, damn him!). “I firmly believe that there is a clue at the kennels that has been overlooked and I think that we should go there this morning.”

 _”I_ for one would not be surprised if you 'find' something that you put there yourself!” Miss Encise-Weatherly sniffed.

She really was an unpleasant young woman (even if the fact that she was simpering at me had clearly annoyed John) but fortunately she had given me just the opening that I wanted.

“That is a fair point”, I said. “In this matter we must make sure that anything we find is beyond reproach. Sir, is your lawyer based in the town?”

The major-general looked surprised at that. John looked at me suspiciously.

“Yes”, he said. “Lorrimer's firm is based in Leyburn but he lives in Hawes. Do you really need him along?”

“I rather think that we do”, I said. “We shall call and collect him on the way over there.”

֍

“What was that all about?” John demanded when we met in his room having collected our things. “Surely you do not need a lawyer present? And why did those two ghastly women look so insufferably smug when you said that?”

“Few things are what they seem”, I said mysteriously. “As we are about to find out!”

He pouted when he realized that I would say no more, and he looked so adorable that.... no, private houses. I would have to wait for that long train-ride back to London. 

Even if it killed me!

֍


	3. Chapter 3

The two women of the house (I shall not call them ladies as I do not think even the flexible English language can stretch that far) wished to go into town that morning and offered to call on the lawyer and have him meet us at the kennels. Which was all well and good.

The lawyer in question, Mr. Lorrimer, was a worried-looking dark-haired fellow of about fifty years of age, and he duly met us at the entrance to the kennels which were indeed as isolated as we had been told. A rise in the ground hid them from the town but the hall could just be seen in the distance. I drew everyone's attention to some footprints in the mud around the entrance-gate and John drew a quick sketch of one of them before we approached the kennel-master's cottage.

“Sir”, the lawyer began looking exceedingly nervous, “I know that this is hardly the time or the place, but I am obliged to inform you that your wife wishes to initiate divorce proceedings against you.”

The soldier looked at him in shock.

“But damnation, Lorrimer, you are working for me!”

“Indeed I advised her that she would have to seek help elsewhere”, the lawyer said clearly unhappy at the situation that he had found himself in. “But she says that she is open to an agreed generous settlement which, she feels, you would most certainly agree to.”

“Oh she does, does she?” the major-general stormed. “And why is that?”

“Because she believes that your youngest son is conducting a sexual relationship with your kennel-master”, I said calmly.

I was glad that we had bought John along as the old soldier looked like he might need a doctor very soon. He spluttered indignantly.

“She says that he is up at the gentleman's house this very morning”, the lawyer said. “If that is indeed true then the scandal would be horrendous!”

(I should probably explain at this point that while members of the upper class sleeping with members of the lower class was not in itself an issue, there had quite recently been a major case concerning a senior officer in the British Army who had most shamefully used his position to force men under him to be..... quite literally under him. The newspapers had run the scandal for some weeks and any further links between the armed forces and men sleeping together would at this time have been particularly explosive).

“I do not believe it!” the major-general snorted. “I mean, Gibbs is almost old enough to be Tony's father!”

I gestured to the building ahead.

“I rather think that we will soon find out”, I said. “Let us go in.”

John looked surprise that I had not so much as knocked but he and the others followed me inside. The place was large for a cottage, and there was an open door leading off into presumably another room. Most likely a bedroom from the fact that a dishevelled half-dressed middle-aged fellow had just stumbled through it, looking at us all in horror.

 _”Gibbs?”_ the major-general thundered. “Lord help me it was true!”

Moments later a second similarly half-dressed gentleman followed the first one into the room, looking just as alarmed at our unannounced arrival. The major-general looked set to have a seizure.

“Who the blazes are _you_ , young fellow me lad?” he demanded. 

“Geoff Haskins, sir”, the second fellow said. “I, uh, own a farm over Lonsdale way.”

The lawyer frowned.

“This is most irregular”, he said. 

“Yes”, I said calmly. “Not quite what you were told to expect, was it?”

“Your wife was learly mistaken in her belief, sir”, the lawyer said, blushing slightly. “She.... well!”

“She believed that the major-general would give her a large settlement to avoid the public scandal of his youngest son's relationship with his father's kennel-master”, I said, thinking instinctively that this sounded rather like one of my own dear mother's terrible plot lines and that in no way should she ever get to hear of this, or at least not before I had a chance to get far, far away before said mother picked up her pen. “She was clearly mistaken.”

“I see that”, the lawyer said. “Mr. Holmes, you said that there was potential evidence concerning the poisoning here?”

“I did”, I said. “You observed the curious footprints around the gate that we saw earlier?”

“Yes? What of them?”

“Fortuitously I had a small case not long back which serves to be of use here”, I said. “The imprint itself seemed unremarkable but I would draw your attention to the strange mark in the centre which you said might be a serpent. In fact it is a letter 'S' with a cross, and is used by a quality footwear manufacturer in Kirkby Stephen which produces high-class walking boots for ladies and gentlemen. They are very exclusive, and I saw Miss Encise-Weatherly wearing a pair when she set off this morning - a pair of exactly the same size as those footprints. Not only that, I noted a small nick on the back heel of one which, you will note, appears in the doctor's sketch.”

The major-general went pale.

“This is all most irregular”, the lawyer frowned, turning to the major-general. “I am sorry, sir, but I shall have to inform the authorities about that lady's involvement in affairs.”

“I am sure that someone as learnéd as your good self would know better than to start with Sergeant Phelps”, I counselled. “But thank you for your time, sir.”

He hurried away. The two gentlemen before us had finished making themselves presentable and I smiled at them both. The younger of them came across to me.

“Mr. Haskins”, I said. “Thank you for _your_ time.”

I handed him an envelope while John spluttered behind me. I was not that surprised when the major-general did not but instead smiled knowingly. Once Mr. Haskins had gone back to get dressed John turned on me.

“What is going on?” he demanded.

“That was an actor friend of mine whom I wired before we left London yesterday”, I said airily. “Fortunately he lives in Lancaster so was able to reach the area in time.”

“I thought so”, the major-general smiled. “I know most of the farmers around the border and I am sure there is no Haskins among them. Is he here?”

I nodded and coughed pointedly. Sure enough, a familiar tall young fellow poked his head through the open door, looking warily at us all. Mr. Antenor 'Tony' Encise-Weatherly.

“Tony!” the major-general said heavily. “I have heard many excuses in my time in the Army, but _this_ one had better be good!”

The young fellow who was definitely his father's son from his face and hair stumbled awkwardly into the room but remained silent.

“Do not tease the poor boy, major-general”, I said reprovingly. “Mr. Antenor, your father has known about your relationship with Mr. Gibbs here for some considerable time.”

The young fellow actually staggered only for the kennel-master to catch him. They continued holding each other until the major-general coughed pointedly.

“Of course I bloody well knew!” he snorted. “You had zero interest in dogs until Gibbs went down to see you in London let alone any attachment to Yorksire, yet you dashed home and then practically lived in this place? Really boy! Tolly followed you over last week before he left for York and made sure.”

The poor young fellow had gone bright red but, I noted, had not moved from the older man's embrace.

“Just make sure neither of you gives me any details”, the major-general grunted. “There was plenty of that in the barracks and we all knew damn well to look the other way. And gods but this place is terrible, Gibbs! I will be having it rebuilt as soon as we get better weather.”

“But sir....” the kennel-master began.

“I am sure that you can move into one of the spare bedrooms in the Hall in the meantime”, the major-general said. “Bloody barn of a place and it will be even emptier once the wifey is gone by the end of the week. The day if I can get home and have her things packed so she does not have time to help herself to anything valuable. Just.... be discreet, eh?”

“We will”, his son promised. “And thank you, father.”

֍

John looked at me curiously. We were on the station platform at Hawes Junction, the major-general kindly having driven us here so we could catch a mainline train straight back to London.

“What did you mean when you told the major-general that 'some secrets should never come out'?” he asked.

“I do not think that a gentleman who is soon to face a long journey to London Town with a dildo inserted into his rectum should talk about coming!” I said primly. 

He spluttered for some time before managing to formulate an answer.

“Do not try to change the subject!” he hissed. 

I smiled at him, but answered.

“Do you remember his valet, Dickon?”

“The barely seen Dickon”, he said. “I thought valets were supposed to be personal attendants, but he was never there.”

“With good reason”, I said. “Most fathers are not that keen for their bastard offspring to be found out.”

He stared at me in shock.

“How can you know that?” he said. “He told us the fellow was off one of his late brother's servants.”

“I noticed the major-general's unusual eye-colour”, I said, “a strange shade of pale green. Dickon has the same eyes, even though he wears those spectacles with the shaded lenses that are meant to be for medical purposes. He never takes them off but one of the servants in the house told me that several of them had noticed and they suspected.”

“And they said nothing?” he asked surprised.

“You saw how utterly repulsive both the wife and daughter were”, I said. “It is ironic really; had they been better people then the blackmail material that they so desired would likely have been presented to them on a plate, or at least offered to them for money. But when they found out about young Mr. Tony's proclivities they initiated a campaign against his lover's dogs, knowing that that would hurt Mr. Gibbs dreadfully.”

“Cruel!” he muttered.

“Yes”, I said. “Some people can be cruel indeed.”

֍

I had referenced John's forthcoming suffering as soon rather and immediate as we were to make another call before returning to London. Our godsons Valdus and Vulcan were now nearly ten years old and we were to visit them and their father Sergeant Valiant Henriksen in Kirkby Stephen, where we had solved the Addleton murders a few years back. The policeman now had nine children (six sons and three daughters) with number ten on the way; John had quipped that it was a good thing that I could not get him pregnant otherwise he too would be spending all his time raising our children. It was a pleasant image and with the way that science was going, who knew?

The following day the sergeant saw us off on our train to London (the pitying look he gave John was a bit much but definitely merited given what lay in store for the poor old fellow. I had not told him about this new dildo's 'special feature', so he was quite happy to sit there with it inside him as far as Leeds. By Sheffield however 'things' were beginning to heat up and he was in some discomfort. The points at Long Eaton made him pull the sort of face that even I rarely managed to make him achieve, and by Loughborough he was panting hard but still refusing my offer to remove it. Leicester, Kettering, Wellingborough and Bedford came and went, and John.... well, he just came. Repeatedly. I was actually worried for him but the look of absolute triumph when we finally clattered to a stop at St . Pancras was glorious. And then he stood up to leave.

I had to explain to the guard and several passengers who rushed to our apartment door that he had merely twisted his ankle and needed some rest. One of the porters most generously bought a wheelchair which enabled me to take him as far as the Railway Hotel. Baker Street was a short cab-ride away but he was in no condition for that, so I booked us a room for the night feeling that I had done the best for him. And although he had not liked the chair he had accepted it and was smiling at me again.

Until we got into the lift up to our rooms and it started with a jolt......

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_Postscriptum: The major-general secured his divorce from his unpleasant wife who, even more happily for him, immediately decamped with her daughter and eldest son to await for when the latter would inherit the estate. Sadly for them Mr. Odysseus Encise-Weatherly was not destined to achieve that for barely a year later he contracted a chill after ignoring advice not to walk in the rain, and died soon after thus reducing his obnoxious mother and sister to penury. He never said as much but I suspected that the major-general made a small settlement on them that saved them from the poor-house, presumably on the condition that they never darkened his doors again._

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End file.
